


Look-At-My-Conkers

by Luckyhai5



Series: Conkersverse: Secrets of the Shire [5]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Thorin POV, conkers are back, even more ridiculous, jealous!Thorin, secrets of the shire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-07 14:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luckyhai5/pseuds/Luckyhai5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Next episode in the Conkersverse series, as they spiral slowly into utter madness.<br/>This time there is a bit of jealousy, some action, some arguing and the conkers return at last!<br/>Can be read separately, but may make more sense if you've read the others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look-At-My-Conkers

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, welcome, good to see you.  
> This was beta'ed yay ^_^ and by none other than the lovely Nancy (http://stillbetterthanthesolarsystem.tumblr.com)  
> All mistakes are my own
> 
> Enjoy ^_^

 

 

As we ran from the goblin caves, I noted the distinct lack of tiny conkers flying about in the air, just as Gandalf shouted, "Where's our hobbit?"

Blast.

We didn't leave him behind, did we? Most unfortunate.

"Curse the halfling," Gloin grumbles as we come to a stop, "Now he's lost? I thought he was with Dori!"

He glares accusingly at Dori, who pales, squawking, "Don't blame me!"

Gandalf, using his most put-upon tone, asks, "Well, where did you last see him?"

Bofur pipes up at this point,"I think I saw him slip away when they first cornered us."

Of course _Bofur_ knows. Because Bofur and the hobbit are so close.

_Oooh, I'm Bofur and I know everything about Bilbo._

_Look at me, I'm Bofur and I can tell you exactly where the hobbit is!_

_I'm Bofur and Bilbo likes me better than anyone else._

Me? Jealous?

Don't be so ridiculous.

I bet Bilbo did not even fall into the goblin caves, he probably just scrambled away to safety, not knowing or caring how we were or what was happening to us.

I wonder if I have even crossed his damn mind for one second.

Not I. We.

I wonder if we have crossed his damn mind.

Not that I care.

I do not feel incredible anger boiling within me at the hobbit's evident indifference to my fate.

_Our_ fates.

Feeling a sort of stinging sensation, like... rejection?

Not that it bothers me.

Halfling can do what he likes.

I don't care.

_I don't care._

"What happened exactly? Tell me." I hear Gandalf command.

"I'll tell you what happened!" I cut in with a growl. "Master Look-At-My-Conkers Baggins saw his chance and he took it. He's gone back to his soft bed, warmth hearth and Conker Games. We will not be seeing him again - he's long gone. And good riddance!"

I add the last bit for good measure, spitting and shaking with rage as Gandalf raises an eyebrow in my direction.

"Master Look-At-My-Conkers Baggins?" I hear a little voice squeak from the corner of the clearing we have stopped in.

And there he is - the hobbit. Alive, well and... angry.

"Bilbo Baggins! I have never been so glad to see anyone in my life," Gandalf exclaims.

My heart sinks to my stomach.

Ah, shit.

"MASTER LOOK-AT-MY-CONKERS BAGGINS?!" The hobbit bellows at me, the whole Company shocked by his ferocity. A few of them are frozen, shell-shocked, and are dragged along by the others as they shuffle off awkwardly to inspect the foliage and definitely not eavesdrop on what I am sure is going to be an extremely excruciating situation.

"Erm, yes." I mumble in an uncharacteristically un-kingly manner.

"Did you just call me," the hobbit hisses. " _Master Look-At-My-Conkers Baggins?_ "

Well, to be honest, I think we've already established that.

Am suddenly very aware that he could, at any moment, incapacitate me with flying, metal-spiked horse-chestnuts.

Am afraid. Am very afraid.

A hobbit striking fear into the heart of a king.

Truly incredible.

Must look intimidating and magnificent.

I do not respond to his comment, not because I have nothing to say, but because I would not give in to him.

For I am very kingly and above his nonsense.

Hobbit is narrowing his eyes. Very menacing.

He says, far too quietly, "I assure you, Thorin Oakenshield," I hate the way he spits my name, "That you will certainly never get the chance to look at my conkers!"

I jolt in shock, before freezing to cover up my incredulous horror at Bilbo's statement. As though I would even want to have anything to do with his... _conkers_. What a vulgar thing to say. It would never have even crossed my mind. I certainly have never thought about this hobbit in that context. Wouldn't dream of such a thing.

Ever.

I most certainly have no desire to run my fingers through that soft, honey-coloured hair, or have those brown eyes pool with heat looking up at me, or hear him scream my name...

Ahem.

No. No desire to do so at all.

I feel my cheeks reddening as all this crosses my mind.

From the Company, I hear spluttering and snickering (Fili and Kili are the main perpetrators).

The hobbit continues. "I know you doubt me, and I do miss my home, because that's where I belong. And that's why I came back, to help you belong somewhere too. But if I ever hear you refer to me in such a way again, I will not hesitate to teach you a lesson. All of you." He looks at everyone, rather ominously, and everyone except me nods.

An awkward silence ensues - Gandalf is giggling, if you can believe such a thing.

Then comes a howl.

Wargs.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"Run!" I roar and, before I know it, the whole Company is bouncing over the countryside.

Rather convenient - I can blame the exertion for my red cheeks.

\---

Am in a rather sorry state.

The Company and I clambered into some trees to avoid some Orcs (should have known they were coming, can smell them for miles) and now the trees have fallen down.

We are all clinging on to a tree directly dangling over a massive precipice.

As I said, a rather sorry state of affairs.

Yes.

There does not seem to be a way out.

I look about myself, but solutions are not forthcoming.

That is when I see him.

Coming into the clearing astride a Warg, bold as brass and decidedly alive.

Azog the Defiler.

The Pale Orc.

Mahal's beard!

My stomach curls in hatred as my senses begin to dim, until he is all I can see, and again I see him brandishing my grandfather's head on the battlefield like some obscene trophy. I clench my fists in rage as I look upon him, my very hair crackles with mighty fury, the irrefutable and inescapable wrath of Thorin Oakenshield!

I fucking _hate_ that Orc.

I rise to my feet, not hearing the protests of the Company as I stride out to meet him, majestic and defiant, my braids and beard blowing theatrically in the wind.

Unsheathing my sword, I run at him, looking kingly and powerful and -

Ah, shit.

He strikes me square in the chest with his mace and I plunge to the floor. My vision goes black as the world swims before my eyes, pain flaring through me.

I lie there.

An Orc approaches, places a blade to my neck and pulls up.

Then I am astonished.

From the side, who should barrel into him, but a little hobbit!

A little hobbit, shouting, "FOR THORIN!"

I have never been so happy in all my life.

Perhaps slightly more comfortable, however.

He stands opposite the Pale Orc, a quite comic aesthetic if it wasn't so drastic.

Am reminded of how tiny and adorable the hobbit is.

I try to get up and help him.

By my beard, that hurts. Probably going to have to hope for the best.

The hobbit smirks at Azog.

I swallow.

This may not end well.

Hobbit speaks, "You're just a big bully."

Durin's beard, did he just call Azog the Defiler _a big bully_?!

There's just no helping some people.

Unexpectedly, out of nowhere, with a flick of the hobbit's wrist (strong wrists, interesting, interesting) what seem to be thousands of little, steel-spiked conkers are flying through the air. The hobbit is laughing manically as they strike the Orcs' eyes, killing several of them and even striking Azog across the chest.

Then, with a great roar, the Company descends, fighting the Orcs and wargs as the brave little hobbit continues to do his worst (which is actually fairly formidable).

He runs over to me, leaning down.

Worry is patent in his big, brown eyes.

Aw.

He's so lovely.

"Thorin!" He gasps,"Thorin! Are you alright?"

Do I bloody look alright?

Unfortunately, my sassy comeback is lost - 'tis a rare thing to out-sass the hobbit and I would have loved to relish that chance - as I black out.

World goes dark, all I feel is Bilbo holding my hand.

Then, this feeling, too, fades.

\---

Briefly awaken.

Giant eagles?

Have I been smoking Gandalf's pipe?

For the love of Mahal, didn't I learn my lesson last time?

I shudder inwardly. I may never recover from the last incident.

Then, again, I am plunged into darkness.


End file.
